


We All Fall Short of Glory

by gremlinquisitor (suchanadorer)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:04:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanadorer/pseuds/gremlinquisitor
Summary: When Cullen catches Sulahnassan goofing around at camp, she thinks he's disappointed in her.





	We All Fall Short of Glory

Sulahnassan is more tired than hungry when they get back to camp. Her legs ache and her shoulders burn, nerves still pricking with residual energy from all they’ve seen and done that day, too wired to think of food. But to turn in early is to admit defeat in front of the others, so she sits with them around the fire, turning down offers of dinner but glad to talk and laugh with them.

She clasps her hands above her head and stretches her arms up, palms to the night sky, back arched.

“You need to eat,” Cassandra sighs as she walks past. Her gait doesn't falter, but her hand darts out from her side, a round green pear in her grip. She stuffs it into Sulahnassan's open mouth as she passes, the corner of her own mouth turning up as she looks down to meet Sulahnassan's eyes, gone wide at the sudden interruption of her yawn.

The group goes quiet, waiting to see what happens next. Sulahnassan sits, hands still in the air, Cassandra watching her.

She blinks once, grins around the pear, sinking her teeth into the soft flesh and tilting her head back. Hands still over her head, she starts to eat, teeth bared as she munches on the pear, chin lifting to turn it in her mouth without her touching it.

There is humor in Cassandra's eyes, even if she does make a noise of distaste before walking away. If she didn't want her to eat it this way, perhaps she should've handed it to her instead, but now it's too late, and Sulahnassan is committed to the ridiculousness of it, egged on by the laughter of Iron Bull, Varric, and her cousin where he stands near the side of one of the tents.

A tent that's just a little larger than the others. A little newer, less road-worn. A tent that--

"I-- Inquisitor?"

Cullen's confusion is enough to stop her in her pursuit of amusement, her smile sagging as the others try to calm themselves, laughter turning to coughs and cleared throats, low chuckles. Sulahnassan's head falls forward and she spits the remains of the pear into the fire.

"Commander." Her eyes flick up to meet his gaze. It would be easier if she saw scorn there, but there's something warmer, and it hurts more to see it. Her own cheeks burn, far beyond the heat of the fire in front of her.

"I thought... Do you have a moment?" He waits, hand on the pommel of his sword, and she stands, careful not meet any of their gazes. Her stomach aches, and her jaw trembles with a sick feeling she hasn't felt since she left her clan and the disciplined watch of their Keeper.

He is disappointed. It comes to her as she follows him away from the fire, to a quieter corner of the camp. This is the first time he's gone with them on a mission, out into the field and away from Skyhold. She's been careful to keep this part of herself from him, knowing all too well that this could be the reaction it would evoke. She is not a lady, never has been, not as she suspects he knows them. She thinks of Josephine's perfume and soft satin, of the nobles that gather in the main hall, wide skirts and carefully styled hair. 

Cullen stops and she almost runs into his back, setting a hand out at the last moment, touching him only to pull back. He turns to face her and she takes a step away, putting some space between them as he looks up at him, chin still tipped down. She is the Inquisitor, but here and now she feels like nothing so much as a child about to be scolded. 

“I… I had hoped that we could--”

“Sorry about that,” she rushes to cut him off, afraid that if she lets him talk for long enough, truths will come out that she does not want to hear him say. She flicks a hand over her shoulder towards the fire, as if she needs to specify what she is apologizing for.

Cullen shifts his weight, his head falling to one side as he looks at her. The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smile and her heart swells behind her ribs, even if she is wary to hope.

“What, that? That was… I’ve never seen you behave like that. I was just surprised.” He rubs at the back of his neck, shrugging a little, and the situation is almost surreal to her, to think that he should be the one embarrassed, when she can still feel sticky pear juice on her chin. “You’re not like that at Skyhold.”

“I have to be the Inquisitor at Skyhold.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks off to one side. This idea that makes perfect, awful sense in her mind is harder to explain to someone else. “I have to be what’s expected of me.”

His eyes dart to the group gathered around the fire and back to her. “Are you not Inquisitor here?”

Sulahnassan sighs, tilting her head one way, then the other. “Yes, and no. These are my closest friends. We work together, fight together. Other than Varric, we’ve all lost count who’s saved who more often. You can’t-- I can’t keep the mask up with them. I don’t want to.”

“Mask?” His voice is so soft that she can’t look at him. This is the moment that she’s dreaded since they started, since he kissed her breathless on the battlements and apologized after, as if he’d done anything other than what they both wanted. 

“ _Inquisitor._ It’s as much armor as anything else I wear. People want a symbol, someone to believe in. I have to be that for them. Me. No one else can do that. But out here, with them? I can be… me.”

“And with me?” Again, he is soft.

It stings, and she closes her eyes, furrowing her brow. “I care for you, Cullen. And I know you care for me, too. But… you’ve seen the Inquisitor. It’s not that I don’t want you to see--” She sighs, settles her weight. She doesn’t want to say the words. 

Cullen moves towards her, pulling her tight against him, his chin resting on her head. His chestplate is cool against her skin, still hot at the thought of things she hasn’t yet said.

“I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t like what you saw when I took the mask off,” she mutters. He strokes her hair, and she melts under his touch, even as her fear and uncertainty are a stone in her chest.

“Burping contests,” Cullen offers. “In training, sometimes at night, there would be competitions. I never won, but I tried.” He chuckles, and it rumbles by her ear. “There is no part of you that I would not accept, Sulahn. I was only surprised because I didn’t know, I’d never seen you--”

“If you liked that, you should see what I can do with a berry stem,” she deadpans, and waits.

He stills for a moment, then laughs again, _Maker's breath_ muttered under his breath, and she doesn’t have to look up to know that his cheeks are pink. 

“We all fall short of glory if one looks at us close enough,” he says, recovering. “And from a distance, we all wear masks.” 

Cullen pulls back to look down at her, one hand on her cheek, guiding her to meet his gaze. “I was drawn to you from the moment I saw you. Your heart, your bravery, your loyalty to those you care for - that’s no mask. None of us are perfect, and I never want you to be afraid to show yourself to me.” He pauses. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.”

She shakes her head, resting against his palm. “You never did. This was all me. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“I don’t scare easy,” he replies with a grin. 

She turns and presses a kiss to his hand, breathing in the scent of leather and metal on his glove. She feels better, a weight lifted off her, but finds that she is no less tired for it, the conversation having drained what little energy she had left.

“You wanted to ask me something.”

“I… I wanted to check if you were going to sleep in my tent tonight, but I understand if--”

“I’d like that," she replies. "As long as we can go now, before I fall asleep on my feet.”

Cullen nods, his arm around her shoulders as they start back towards the fire and the tents.


End file.
